


So What's Your Major?

by Aris_Silverfin, FatlocknDomJohn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Weight Gain, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2421758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aris_Silverfin/pseuds/Aris_Silverfin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatlocknDomJohn/pseuds/FatlocknDomJohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes has put on weight since arriving at university. He doesn't seem to like it, but a certain Criminal Justice major seems quite interested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Club Mystique

It wasn't true. This couldn’t be happening.  These phrases spun wildly, in several different languages, in the massive, ginger brain of "Top Two Percent" genius, Mycroft Holmes. The "it" was his weight. The "This?" Its rapid increase since his beginning of university.

Study had been the 20-something Holmes' boy's priority! With socializing coming in at a /very/ far-away second, and exercise not even placing. Late nights binging on pizza while reading and three-am study trips to the local coffee shop, which happened to make the world's /fluffiest/ and /most delicious/ doughnuts had caught up to the red-head, and his waistline showed it.

The pale, fleshy sphere rounded outwards quite violently, straining at both old and recently purchase tees. It bulged forward over "skinny" jeans and onto chunky thighs when Mycroft sat down, the tinest, rose-colored stretch-marks kissing at its sides. His chest had fared no better, softening into a supple pair of, the Holmes' boy blushed at the thought, /breasts./ His hips had widened, a bony arse swollen into jiggling spheres that made every desk feel pillowy and light. A matching set of roses ghosted over round hips, and fully-blossomed love handles.

He'd noticed admiring glances from his male classmates, the only gender he had interest in bedding, had fallen twenty-eight percent, even though his GPA had only risen, and his size in no way affected his passion and obvious intelligence in the classroom.

But the already-shy Mycroft had only turned further inward, hiding away in his room with the comfort of biscuits and tea as his "friends."

His real friend, and actually his only friend, Anthea, finally stormed in and dressed him up for a night on the town. Mycroft didn’t enjoy drinking, or clubs, or dancing, but somehow found himself in a sparkling, purple V-neck that clung to his belly like it was only life raft on the Titanic. The jeans were equally constricting, his round bottom, wide hips, and thick thighs on full display.

Anthea informed him that he looked "absolutely edible," but he manipulated her out onto the dance floor and left her there within twenty minutes of entering "Club Mystique," and currently sat stirring at his drink and fretting "This can’t be happening" thoughts on one of the bar sections several stools, the music echoing into his bones.

Mycroft let out a deep, sad sigh.

But while he might have called his weight gain a disaster, but the same could not be said of one Greg Lestrade, the goalie for the school’s football team and an avid admirer of Mycroft's demonstrated intellect. He always hoped he might run into him outside of class... Mycroft always seemed to be burried in his studies or his notes or off in his own thoughts somewhere that wasn't receptive to a friendly smile and a fleeting hello. Even if they came from a decently tall, dark-haired, warm chocolate-eyed and fit footballer... But Mycroft never really seemed to be out, at least not in the places that Greg and his mates frequented. Tonight though... his luck appeared to have changed.

 

Greg did a double take, his eyes flitting back to the young ginger sitting at a table on his own, pointedly avoiding anyone else around him. Greg also happened to be at a truly excellent angle to see a perfectly round, perfectly gorgeous little tum tugging against the sparkling fabric of the man's shirt. Greg swallowed thickly, and then took another long drink of his beer before walking over.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked over the music, smiling despite his nerves and gesturing to the seat directly beside Mycroft Holmes and made to sit down. "Hot isn't it?"

The Holmes boy was shocked out of his stewing by a cheerful, warm voice. He looked about panicked, blushing furiously when it was none-other than a _painfully_ gorgeous brunette speaking to _him_. Mycroft swallowed, hard, catching the first bit but losing the ability to understand words as his eyes fell to the boy's muscled, wide chest, perfectly revealed under a skin-tight tank.

"Yeah. Uh-N-no! No! You can sit there! I-" Mycroft babbled, but quickly shut his mouth. He reached for his drink, suddenly embarrassed how revoltingly _cute_ /it looked, bright pink and sugary, called a "Gumdrop" or something equally as stupid.

He took a rather large sip, blushing, his other arm going to cover his gut. This move only revealed how much it has expanded as his plump arm sank lightly into the small sphere.

"Sorry, was someone sitting here? I can move on but... er, You're Mycroft Holmes, right?" said Greg, still just as cheerily, sipping at his beer, "You're in a few of my classes. I don't think we've ever really had a chat... I'm Greg. Greg Lestrade."

He offered a hand tentatively, still smiling warmly. He didn't give a thought to the man's drink... though that hand on the belly... suddenly he was oddly jealous.

"No. No! No one's there I just..." Mycroft trailed off, listening.

"Greg, yes. Greg Lestrade. You're comments in class are always so...supportive." He noted, trying to remember if he'd ever completely obliterated this gorgeous creature's arguments during discussion.

My smiled, shyly, at the offer of a hand. His own moved off his tummy, the flesh jiggling at the small movement, and shook as Mycroft did. Greg's hands were...rough. Strong.

_Warm_

My felt his blush deepen, quickly pulling away. That's the most male-contact he'd gotten, well...ever.

"It's nice to 'meet' you." He added, with a nervous chuckle

"Yeah finally, thought it was about time," Greg chuckled in kind, trying to put the man at ease. He couldn't blame him, really. These places were always sort of over stimulating, even for someone who loved people as much as Greg.

 

"I haven't seen you around here before, though," he added, hoping to keep their conversation going, "Not much for drinking or dancing?"

"People are generally annoying." My said without thinking, then stuttered, "N-no, I’m usually too busy with studying and...studying." He added, slapping himself inwardly at the comment.

Greg shrugged and decided to ignore it.

"It can get hard to talk yeah," he said instead, then allowed a small little grin. All that flustered blushing was completely adorable. He was hopelessly smitten. And the alcohol in his system nudged him towards bravery.

"Well, since you're not studying tonight, want to take me up on some dancing?" he asked.

Mycroft's eyes widened.

"D-dancing?" He repeated, dumbly, turning bright red. Oh god. Greg. Beautiful. Sweet. Painfully hot Greg was asking /him/ to dance.

They had been flirting??? Well either way this was _definitely_ flirtatious.

Mycroft hopped off his stool. excitedly, "I'm not very good, bu-"

His stomach shook violently at the movement, and My felt it in every inch of his form. This was a bad idea, he'd just embarrass himself, he'd-

"That's alright, neither am I," Greg said, chuckling warmly again and standing as well. He grabbed the man's arm lightly and took a step towards the dance floor. Oh _Christ_ that belly... to have it pressing against him or to grab it gently as they... no. He was a gentleman. Maybe in future if things went well... if Mycroft liked him back.

Mycroft let himself be led, even with his brain screaming at him to retreat.

He spotted Anthea across the dance floor, who continued to rotate her arse into a man's crotch while giving her best friend a double thumbs up on his catch.

My blushed. Was he supposed to dance like that? It seemed to be what most were doing. He ended up crowding into Greg's back as the brunette paused at finding a good spot. His round gut squashing into the small of Greg back

"S-sorry!" He said, not moving, his tummy wobbling lightly

"That's alright," Greg replied genially. More than alright really. God...

He wondered if Mycroft might be more comfortable with less contact at first however and carefully moved out of his space just a little as he began rocking his hips and shoulders in time to the music. He turned around grinning, still dancing, taking Mycroft's forearms gently and tugging him gently along with the beat.

"See it's not hard," he laughed.

My actually laughed, letting Greg move him into the music. He let his hips roll lightly to the rhythm, trying to ignore how much if made his entire body shake and quiver

He looked over to see his best friend glaring at him, mouthing something and furiously thrusting her body into a man that seemed to be trying to escape.

Should he get...closer?

After a few moments, he lessened the space between he and Greg, ever-so-slightly

Greg smiled encouragingly, stepping closer as well, still swaying as he let his hands slip to Mycroft's hips in the hopes that the other man might take the invitation to touch him as well.

"Blimey, you must have danced before, you're amazing," he praised, matching his rhythm to Mycroft's as the song changed though the dull club thump didn't seem to have shifted.

"I can say the same, you clearly lied to make me feel less...nervous." My said, trying to sound flirtatious, laying a soft hand on one of Greg's biceps, feeling the muscle there expand and contract with every movement. My flushed at the hands on his hips, but continued rolling them in the hope that warmth would stay pressed there. Clearly Greg hadn’t yet noticed My's size. It wasn’t enough to be noticeable, it couldn’t be, he convinced himself.

"Oh? I'm doing alright then am I?" Greg teased in response, moving a bit closer still, rocking Mycroft towards him. His fingers remained polite. He longed to just knead that soft flesh under his fingers, but he would wait. He gave Mycroft a cheeky wink, then spun himself around and pressed back into Mycroft lightly, wriggling his bum before getting back to dancing rhythm "How's that?"

Mycroft laughed, even though his mouth went dry at seeing that tight, muscular bottom wiggle in front of him

" _Pretty_ good" He teased, fingers moving toward it against his will, but he pulled back in time as Greg straightened

"Maybe, you should try again" He flirted, rolling his hips under Greg’s fingers once more, moving forward enough to grasp at Greg's hips, not noticing how his bell squashed against the other man's abs.

"Hm, you first," Greg retorted, smirking and tilting his hips in a bit more as Mycroft took hold of them. That belly was... wow. Yeah, there needed to be more of that.

My smirked, feeling gorgeous from how Greg looked at him. He moved slowly, matching the bass of the loud, thrumming pop as he rolled his wide ass against Greg's crotch, before bending all the way down, his thick legs supporting him as he wiggled his arse lightly, the flesh bouncing and jiggling agains the other man's jeans

He moved to rise.

"Fu-jesus!" Greg breathed, his breath catching as Mycroft backed into him. His hands settled on the man's hips, gripping them a bit more tightly as he remembered where he was and responded in kind, grinding up lightly against the chubbier man's arse. He let his hands slip to Mycroft's waist as he rose back up. Let himself feel all that warm soft flesh, heat seeming to radiate out almost...

"God, Mycroft," He murmured, "That was-you're really- damn." He laughed breathlessly.

Mycroft froze. Greg had touched his belly. He'd...why

He swallowed. This had been a joke. A prank. Why else would Greg grab at him _there_?! He moved to walk away from the man, trying to escape from Greg's grip

"Sorry, too much?" asked Greg, feeling his heart sink as Mycroft moved away, he let him go, moving to take the man's forearm lightly instead. "I'm sorry, won't happen again."

"Don't just...You can tell your friends or whoever put you up to this that I was, indeed, very fooled. I've put on weight, and need to be taken down a notch, I get that now. So please, let go of me." My said, voice shaky, lip quivering, "You can-" He snapped his mouth shut as his voice broke

"Mycroft... no one did that- I wanted to- with you," said Greg, his eyes growing wide and hurt. "Let's talk outside? Yeah? Please?" He nodded to the door at the end of the dark dance hall

My turned away, waving down Anthea. She quickly threw the boy she was grinding with to the floor, stepping over him and shoving several people out of the way to reach her friend. She brought her hands protectively to My's face as he explained what had happened, and told her she'd be texted, and gave Greg's full name in the event something...happened. My turned wordlessly to walk toward the door, and Anthea locked eyes with Greg, silently pointing at him and then dragging her pointer finger across her throat.

"Wha- wait!" Greg called, feeling like his insides were collapsing as he watched them leave. "Mycroft! Mycroft please." He hurried after the two of them to the outside of the club. "I just... I just want to talk. Just for a minute. "

Anthea looked between them, then moved toward Greg. My layed a hand on her arm, stepping in front of her. She moved to lean against the wall, texting furiously

"Talk." He ordered, voice cold.

Greg blinked, chewed his lip then opened his mouth and closed it once before he managed to speak.


	2. Egg on My Face

"Look. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry if I did something... you didn't like. If I got a bit handsy. If you didn't like that. I... It won't happen again. I just. I... like you Mycroft. I'm sorry I wrecked it. Er, want my number? In case you want to give a drunk idiot another chance?"

He added hopefully, digging in his pocket for a pen, more just to have something to do with his hands.  
  
"Stop it! Just...stop!" He shouted, impatiently. "I don’t know why you're keeping up this charade but...but it isn’t at all amusing!" My force his voice to stay even, but his eyes watered

"I know what's happened to me this semester; there was no point in your cementing it in! I....just tell me exactly who put you up to this...game, so I can deal with /them/ appropriately. Then I will bid you goodnight."

My swallowed, crossing his arms over his round, bulging belly, the flesh stretching the sparkly fabric around his deepening belly button. The Holmes boy cocked a hip out, waiting, pointedly ignoring how the seams of his jeans groaned lightly with the movement. The air was crisp, summer gradually shifting into fall, and the streets were empty. The silence was deafening compared to the damp heat and head-splitting dubstep in the club.

"A-wha…There's no charade! I... I know I screwed up, but i wasn't lying!" Greg insisted, looking from Mycroft to Anthea. "I... I do like you. I got handsy. I'm sorry i touched you like that... I shouldn't have I just…"

Mycroft's face softened, then flushed

"Oh...you…It was an accident?" The genius took a step forward. An accident, of course. He _knew_ he hadn’t put on that much weight. Greg's hand must’ve simply...grabbed at his tummy trying to get a hold on him

"God I...Oh Greg Im so sorry! I'm...I've got quite a bit of egg on my face don’t I?" My smiled, face beet red, one plump arm scratching at the back of his head, exposing a deliciously soft, creamy lip of tummy.

"I've...well…I’ve been eating a bit more than usual, lately. I'd worried it'd become noticeable, and you're touching my stomach sort of...I over reacted, and I’m very sorry." He took another step forward, laying a delicate hand on Greg’s bicep.

"L-let me buy you dinner! God I hope you don’t think I’m a loon." He laughed, nervously

"No, no, I understand," said Greg quickly, flushing a bit, "we've all got places we're not comfortable with. Not that you need to worry. You look... You look really good. "

Greg smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "But, er dinner yeah. I could eat."

The Holmes boy was a bit lost with all the compliments, but felt he had to reply.

"I really can’t apologize enough!" My repeated, trying to smile and looking downward, "There's a nice little Italian place up the road, if you like that sort of...food."

Smooth My. Very smooth.

"I...like your arms. And your face. And your hair." He stammered, "L-Let me just tell Anthea! A-and we'll be off!" He turned away quickly rushing toward his friend

"I love Italian yeah," said Greg, smiling broadly. He chuckled as Mycroft complimented him in return, scuffing his shoes shyly against the pavement. Blimey, dinner, /food/ with Mycroft!

My hurried back over, tummy jiggling madly under the shimmering fabric. His eyes sparkled with excitement

"Ready to go?" He asked, unsure of what to do with his hands

Behind him, Anthea mimed choking Greg to death and tossing his body in a river. It was...quite the performance.

"Er... “said Greg, swallowing as he watched Anthea. Then he shook his head and looked back at Mycroft. "Yeah. Yeah let's go. Walking or?" He cleared his throat and stuck his hands in his pockets, smiling shyly.

"It's not very far, I’m sure we'll still be able to hear this monstrosity from there" My chuckled, trying to sound light.

He took a few steps, then stuck his hand out, awkwardly

"I-I really am sorry. Please don't think you can’t touch me in other places." My smiled at Greg, then his face fell, cheeks going red.

"I-I mean! N-not like that! W-well yes like that but-Oh god!" My blushed deeper, burying his face in his hands

Greg laughed warmly and took Mycroft's hand. He squeezed it gently and nodded towards the street, "This way? And good to know." he added, grinning.

My just nodded, mouth suddenly very dry

The restaurant was quaint, and absurdly expensive. The waiter greeted Mycroft by name, and immediately led he and Greg to a table.

Before even asking what they'd like, he bolted to the kitchen and returned with a plate loaded with bruschetta, meats, and cheeses. They towered upward, shiny with fat and oil.

My blushed a bit, deciding to be honest

"This is my...um...usual appetizer." He reached for a piece of the tomato-laden bread, chomping a large bite.

"It looks spectacular," said Greg warmly, taking one himself. "Blimey, I don't think I’ve ever seen a place this... Authentic."

He took a second. "Mmph, i can see why you like it too. Don't hold back on my account."

Mycroft brightened a bit, going on about the family that owned the restaurant and how he'd come to enjoy the place.

"They don’t generally do takeout, but Giuseppe has been nice enough to send me alfredo nearly every night." The genius almost bragged, slice after slice of the carby treat disappearing into his softly growling tummy

He reached out for a slice of cheese, and ended up taking three, matching them with slices of ham and stuffing them into his mouth greedily. He hiccupped lightly, reaching for more

"So...what's your major?" He asked, politely


	3. Ping

"Ugh, criminal sciences, psychology too for a bit, but I swapped over," said Greg, wetting his lips as he watched Mycroft tuck in. He tried the cheese as well. Just as good.

"You'd make a cute psychologist, but I much prefer a man in uniform."" My flirted, popping another piece of bruschetta in his mouth, his chubby belly rounding out, ever-so-slightly, only entirely visible because of the tightness of his shirt

"What... What about you?" Greg swallowed and reached for his water.

"Political science." The Holmes shrugged, "I like it. You sort of have to outsmart everyone around you, it's a bit evil, but all rather...fun." My chuckled, "No clue what I want to do with it, but...I've got a 4.0 average, and loads of research under my belt"

At belt, My figited a bit. What his too tight? He ignored it, snagging another few pieces of cheese as their server returned to take orders.

"Intelligent stuff, i don't think I'd have the right mind for it," said Greg, his tone going smooth with admiration. He dared to stretch his leg out below the table, his foot nudging Mycroft's. "I'm sure you'll go far though. You're the most brilliant bloke in school."

He smiled, then straightened as he saw the waitress return. " oh, er, I’ll have what he's having," he said, nodding at Mycroft.

My blushed a bit as Greg's foot toyed at his, but he responded in turn

"Oh, I don’t know" He said, looking down. He nervously finished off the tray before them with a small burp, giving his slightly bloated belly a soft, unconscious pat

"I always get the chicken alfredo." He smiled, going in to list its ingredients, "It _is_ a bit heavy, though" He shrugged

"Oh I can manage I'm sure," said Greg spiritedly, "it sounds incredible." He licked his lips. Oh Christ was it nice seeing a good appetite on a man. Especially Mycroft.

They chatted for a bit longer, My's shyness wearing off a bit as he nudged at Greg’s shoes under the table, laughing at the brunette's jokes

Their meals finally arrived. 

Two, massive bowls filled to the brim with carby pasta and rich, white sauce. Flecks of lightly fried chicken were spread throughout

My dug in eagerly, slurping and chomping at his meal with a vengeance. He got more than 1/4 of the way through before straightening up and belching, his tummy now noticeably bloated

He blushed lightly, "S-sorry, just really like their food." He said, nervously

"Don't hold back on my account," Greg chuckled, wondering if his ears were going pink. "This is amazing! I hurp- understand completely."

He gave Mycroft a reassuring smile, doing his best to keep pace with the man, but God, could he eat!

My smiled back, a little more at ease, and dug in further. Forkful after forkful disappeared into his gluttonous maw, tummy only rounding further and further, until the tiniest slip of ivory flesh appear under his sparkling top.

He hiccuped lightly, nearly finished with his bowl.

"Are you, um, gonna finish that?" He asked, hoping not to sound piggish

Greg looked down at his plate. Yeah his ears were definitely pink now.

"Oh, er, no I don't think I can," he said, pushing the bowl over towards Mycroft. "Help yourself."

My quickly polished off his own bowl, smiling broadly, then went to dig into Greg's

The brunette swallowed. "I... I've never seen anyone eat like you."

That suddenly sounded awful and he quickly sputtered, "Sorry, I wasn't commenting on... I mean. I like it. I'm glad you can enjoy yourself like you do. It's really nice. Yeah. You deserve to, people are nuts for- I'm just going to shut up. Sorry. I'm being a kink- I'm being weird again. Just ignore me."

He buried his face in his water glass.

Mycroft froze at Greg's comment, cold fear gripping at his guts

"You...what?"

He watched the man stammer, becoming less afraid and more confused

"...what?" He said again, mouth full.

Greg folded his hands, thinking as fast as he could.

"I like watching you enjoy yourself like this," he said, trying to make it sound reasonable. "It's... it's good!"

He chewed his lip. If he just came out and said it, he'd sound like a lunatic, or like he only came along to watch Mycroft fill his stomach. His beautiful podgy round little stomach...

"I like you," he repeated, "I think you're brilliant, clever... and attractive. E-especially when you're... really enjoying something... like your food. Yeah."

My smiled, swallowing down his meal

"Aw, well...that's really sweet." He said, moving a hand to rest on Greg's, his own warmth flowing into the brunette

He shoveled in the rest of the bowl with his opposite hand, then leaned back, resting both hands on his overfilled gut, hiccupping

"Oooo" He moaned, softly, a wide sliver of pale gut on full display, "Ice cream?" He asked, hoping to prolong he and Greg’s... _date_. He squealed inwardly at the word.

Greg shifted in his seat. "Oh, er, hmm, yeah. I could go for that. Here or?"

He actually rather hoped they'd stay seated. "I'm sure they'd do a brilliant gelato here..." he said quickly, trying desperately to will away the heat that kept creeping and coiling through him.

His eyes, brown, warm, and swamped with large dilated pupils looked back over Mycroft.

"Good, wasn't it?" he asked, smiling, suddenly shy.

My put the order in, then turned back at the comment

"Oh yes! I-Oh" My said, blushing

His mouth went dry, the way Greg was looking at him...

He swallowed, ""Y-yeah. I did eat two servings" He chuckled, nervously

"Yeah, must have been then. God, I wish I could have eaten more," Greg said brightly, rubbing his own stomach. It was quite full, though nowhere as round and soft as the man opposite him.

This wasn't really helping. He shifted again, trying to get comfortable

"Oh, s-sorry, I can get you an order to go if you like?" My added unsure of what to do

Their gelato arrived, enormous scoops of sugary fat 

Mycroft dug in, greedily, quickly muscling the sweet-treat down. He licked his lips, leaning forward and eyeing his date's dessert

He pants felt...tight. Almost painfully so. They must've shrunk

"I-I hate to ask again, but..." My pointed at Greg's mostly unfinished ice cream. He was _so_ full, but this was all just _so_ good.

Greg wet his lips and nodded wordlessly, pushing it over.

"Tuck in," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. He flushed

Jesus Christ he was done for...

Mycroft swallowed. God, he'd never been this _stuffed_ , but Greg didn’t seem to mind, plus, My was paying

The first bite actually hurt his stomach, the but next few flowed, the genius letting himself get lost in the feeling of all that sweet cream on his tongue. His shirt had ridden up almost to his belly button, his chubby belly almost on full display

He licked the last bite off the spoon, then let out an earth-shattering belch

"Wow, that was *hic* amazi-" My leaned forward, his overstuffed gut pressing into his once-loose jeans

As the glass settled on the table, there was a loud

* **PING** *

_Oh... oh God. Keep it together Greg. Think of- shit-think of anything!_

Greg completely forgot how to breathe.

He cleared his throat. "Er, um, you alright?" he asked, his breathing suddenly harsh and ragged, his fingers clenched against the table top. Had he... had he really just?

"I think I might love you," he breathed, then winced, hoping he hadn't said it loud enough for the other man to hear.

My felt relief as his gut poured out into his lap, then he felt pure horror

He looked down, seeing just how _fat_ he'd become, what a _pig_ he'd made of himself

"I-I uh" Mycroft stuttered, desperately trying to pull his shirt down over his huge tummy

"I-Im so sorry! I-well"

"N-no, no, don't be sorry, Mycroft. Please don't," said Greg quickly, "It's fine. M-more than fine. A-actually."

He tried to calm down his racing pulse... oh what would that soft skin feel like now? All hot and tight? Heavy?

He smiled as best he could. "I-I'm glad... you had all you wanted. It's... it's good. Really good."

"I...Oh Greg, y-you're being very sweet b-but I should-"

My rose, taking a step before tripping over the carpet. He landed, face down, ass up

My flushed crimson, scrambling up, the twisting of his tummy letting loose a string of belches and hiccups

Greg made to catch the man's arm, but too late. Next he was biting his lip so hard he drew blood in order to keep from letting out a low wanton groan as he stared at Mycroft's ass, perfectly tilted into the air. He gathered himself, then stood and reached down to help Mycroft up.

"Oh, God, Are you alright?" he asked, eyes drawn irresistibly to all that gorgeous round overfull belly.

Mycroft's lower lip quivered.

"Y-yes I’m....n-no. I’m not." He sniffled, "I’ve made a complete fool of myself a-and eaten myself into oblivion. I’m so sorry, Greg. Please don’t tell anyone about this, I’ll make sure you're adequately compensated for you time." He rubbed the back of his arm over his eyes.

"Mycroft..." said Greg, and his voice was incredibly gentle, "I don't think you've made a fool of yourself. I had a wonderful time. I'm glad you brought me here. I was happy to..."

He trailed off and gripped the other man softly by the shoulders. "It's okay." He smiled.

"I won't tell anyone, but... I... er. Tonight was…Tonight was incredible. You're incredible. Can... can I?"

He stepped closer, then cautiously embraced the man, being sure to keep his hips back a bit.

"R-really?" My asked, then felt himself...Jesus Christ, in the greatest hug of his life

He snuggled his head into Greg's shoulder, his partially bare belly filling the small gap between them, squashing into the fit man's abs

"So you'd...like to see each other again?" He asked, shyly

"I would yeah," said Greg, smiling and tilting his head against Mycroft's, "I really would."

"Would you want to see me again?" he asked cautiously,

"Are you free tomorrow?" Mycroft asked, resisting the urge to nuzzle into that gorgeous face

"And...would you like to kiss me?" He added, quietly, tipping his head back to look into Greg's eyes

"Yeah I think so. And yeah. Definitely," said Greg, smiling and tilting his head in. He sought Mycroft's lips carefully, his eyes flicking over the man's face. Then he brushed his lips softly against Mycroft's and let his eyes slide shut as he kissed him slowly, just his lips pressing and shifting slightly against the other man's.

My kissed back, shyly, just enjoying the feeling of Greg's rough, slightly chapped lips on his own

He pulled back after a moment, eyes dreamy

 

"Wow."

**Author's Note:**

> Mycroft and Anthea by FatlocknDomJohn
> 
> Greg by Aris_Silverfin


End file.
